


Suffocating

by goldcoin, leporicide (orphan_account)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Supernatural - Freeform, Topic of Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 17:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/826732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldcoin/pseuds/goldcoin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/leporicide
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The nurse walks down the corridor, her nose wrinkling.  “Do you smoke, Mr. Vantas.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suffocating

**Author's Note:**

> This lovely little AU is catching on like wild fire, isn't it? As usual, visual work by me and written work by Sonny Mess! <3

 

  


\---

Karkat feels like he’s suffocating.

Karkat can taste the ash on his tongue, feel the smog drift into his lungs and if he actually needed to breathe anymore, he might start to choke. It’s thick, the smell of his smoke, curls like a poison into his view, burns his eyes with something he can’t quite hate. He absentmindedly likes his lips, the flavor of coal and something just not human tickling the inside his mouth.

He casts Gamzee a look from the corner of his eyes, burning with a redness that can’t be placed. Gamzee looks at him back, his eyes glowing in the florescent light of the hospital waiting room. The never ending smoke hanging loosely off his lips. If Karkat wants to, he knows he can simply reach across the small space between them and snatch it from his lips, watch it burn his skin for a moment before wilting into nothing and reappearing on the other’s lips once more.

Karkat hates hospitals.

He’s spent years around death, shook his hand, caressed its face. He doesn't want to be here. Karkat shifts in his seat, the hard plastic digging into his back, almost reminding him that he’s not here for pleasure anyway. Gamzee crosses his legs as he stands and Karkat enjoys the wrinkling of the expensive fabric, the way it clings to Gamzee’s skin, just like the black fog that rolls out of his mouth.

Karkat coughs. Gamzee raises an eyebrow before he’s smirking and it’s cruel, how it curls his lips just like the smoke curls Karkat’s vision. He blows a thick cloud right on him and Karkat’s eyes sting but no one notices because no one ever notices. He opens his mouth nonetheless, sucks in the polluted air and tastes the end of the world, watches the fall of humanity in Gamzee’s violet eyes and feels a desperate need to touch him. Karkat reaches out, Gamzee leans in, places a hand on the ugly yellow plastic chair and the ghost of the cigar is gone, replaced with harsh lips against his and Karkat doesn't mind. He knows, he most look weird, opening his mouth like he’s going to yawn, but he doesn't care. Karkat wants to die of suffocation if only to leave with that taste in his mouth.

Gamzee’s smoke fills his lungs and it’s addicting and diseased and Karkat licks his mouth in hopes of pulling more inside him before Gamzee’s standing yet again, eyes twinkling violently with something Karkat can’t identify. It’s nasty, twisting in his lungs and Karkat motions with his eyes for the other to return, to kiss him again, smoke or not before a call snaps both their attention.

“Karkat Vantas?” There’s a nurse standing at the door, giving him a look. He doesn't say anything, just gets up and follows her out of the waiting room, watches Gamzee move from the corner of his eye. The nurse walks down the corridor, her nose wrinkling. “Do you smoke, Mr. Vantas.”

Karkat gives her a small smile, opening his mouth as the smog from his lungs rolls out like a black cloud, fills the space between them and wraps around them. She sniffs again.

“No. It’s disgusting.”


End file.
